Galway Girl
by oblivion-is-grace
Summary: Imagine being Tony Stark's daughter and coming out to your best friend, Peter Parker. Lesbian!Reader


People would suspect that being the daughter of the biggest womanizer in the history of the universe would mean that you could charm any boy you wanted, but that had been the one thing you _didn't_ want. You sat across from a fidgety Peter, and he fidgeted his long fingers in anticipation for what it was you needed to tell him. Your father, Tony, was suspicious when you told him that you were going out to meet Peter, his new..."experiment"-his words-that he took a liking to. It was scarce that Tony looked truly happy after your mother died, but he always beamed with pride when he was close to you or Peter.

However, under the circumstances, you were certain he would no longer feel love for you, not once he _knew_. That was why you sat in front of Peter. Ever since your trip to Ireland with Tony, the one you begged for Peter to be made a part of, you couldn't help the burning within your heart. On your second night there, you snuck out of your hotel room with Peter and ran off to a local pub. While you couldn't purchase alcohol, it felt good to be out of the watchful eye of your father, a man who always worried about you too much. It was at that pub that you met _her_.

Peter was the first to lay eyes on her, but he didn't focus on her the way you did. You watched every swing of her hips, every curve of her body, the way her blonde wisps of hair bounced as she danced, and the way her smile made every color more vibrant than before. When Peter had gone off to the bathroom, you took your separation as your chance to approach her. While you had always found yourself attracted to women, you could always brush aside those urges and ignore them. It was completely different with her, though. With your first sense freedom, you approached her, and that was when the world stopped turning, that was when your life finally made sense but when it all came crashing down around you at the same time.

The taste of her lips didn't leave you, not that night, not during the plane ride home, and not even as you sat in front of Peter. You were terrified of telling anyone, but he was going to be the first. Right as you were about to speak, he cleared his throat, "did you tell your dad that we were on a date?" he asked, his fingers trembling as he wrung his hands nervously.

You snickered, "no, why?" you asked, curious as to why he would ask a question that was so out of the blue.

He shrugged his shoulders, those brown eyes flickering up to meet yours, "well, I think he's under that impression. He sent me a pretty passive aggressive text a few minutes before you got here," he confessed.

You rolled your eyes, "I just didn't tell him what our plans were, so he's assuming we're on a date. I actually have something I need to tell you," you said, taking a deep breath and staring down at the table that separated the two of you. Peter was your closest friend, and while you trusted the other Avengers, there was no friend you trusted or valued more than him. As your body trembled with unchecked anxiety and paranoia, you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to breathe through the constant doubts. You had to remind yourself that if anyone left you for this, Peter would be the last person to do that. He accepted you for all your strange quirks from the beginning. This would just be another _thing_ that he would learn to accept. The more times you told yourself that Peter _wouldn't _leave you, the less you believed it.

As you tried to calm your own nerves, Peter reached out for your hand just as he always did. You accepted his touch and listened to his soft and soothing voice as he spoke, "whatever it is, just know that it's not going to change my opinion of you. You're still going to be the closest thing I have to family. You're still going to be my best friend. I'm still going to love you, (Y/N)," he explained, seeing how troubled you were.

You took a deep breath and stared down at the table, a lock of (Y/H/C) falling from behind your ear to hide the tears in your eyes. Your bottom lip quivered as you looked back up at him, meeting those understanding brown eyes once more, "I'm gay," you breathed out.

Without hesitation, Peter jumped across the table and wrapped you in his arms. As he tackled you out of the seat, he broke the fall once you both hit the ground. He refused to let you go, even after your tears began to dry. He held you through the tears, the sobs, and the sniffles. When it was over, he continued to hold you close, "can I tell you something?" he asked, and you nodded your head, "I saw you with that girl in Ireland, and I heard you sneak out that night after you brought me back to the hotel," he confessed.

You playfully hit his chest and smiled with fond memories of her, "Aisling," you murmured that name. It meant "dream," which was what she felt like to you. You glanced up at Peter, pulling away from him only the slightest bit-as far as he would let you-and you finally realized that the look in his eyes hadn't changed. If anything, he looked at you with so even more admiration than before you told him. You chewed on your bottom lip, "you're the first person I've told," you confessed.

He furrowed his eyebrows, "you haven't told your dad?" he asked, confused as to why you would tell him before the man you confided in more than anyone else. You couldn't keep things from Tony, the man who raised you and made you into a strong and intelligent young woman.

You shook your head, "I'm just afraid of what he would say. I mean, what if he disowns me?" you asked, terrified of the idea. It had been something you struggled with for such a long time. Even since you were younger, you knew that there was something different about living the lifestyle that felt comfortable for you. You saw how people discriminated against people who didn't follow the status quo, and you didn't know your father's stance on that issue. It was never something that came up naturally.

Peter glanced up at the clouds and thought about your question, which was rhetorical, but he was going to find an answer anyway, "if he disowns you, I'll accept you even more. I'll tell people we're siblings, which could pass," he answered

"What if he throws me out?" you asked, still ranting.

Even though Peter knew what you were doing, he still found an answer, "if he kicks you out, you'll live with Aunt May and I. We'll make it work. I always wanted to share a bunk bed with someone," he smiled.

Your eyes filled with tears as the last fear surfaced, "what if he doesn't love me anymore?" you asked, terrified of losing another parent. Your mother didn't go willingly, but you were so afraid to lose your father, especially over something like this.

"If he stops loving you over something like this, I'll love you even more," he answered again, sighing as his brown eyes connected with yours, "(Y/N), listen, I may have had less time getting to know Mr. Stark, but if there's _one_ thing I know, it's that he loves you more than anything else. If you think that this part of you would make him stop loving you, I think you're wrong. If I can accept and love you for who you are, the man who helped create you should react the same way. You shouldn't feel the need to hide, not when this is something that is so central to who you are as a person. Your sexuality doesn't define you. Love is love, (Y/N), it doesn't matter who is at the receiving end of it. There's nothing wrong with that, and anyone who disowns you for that doesn't deserve you in the first place," he said, his calm and collected thought process easing your mind.

You glanced up at him, squeezing his waist and grasping his body even tighter, "I don't know what I would do without you, Peter," you murmured, resting your head against his chest as he stared up at the clouds.

Five weeks later, Tony's House, a shelter for troubled and homeless LGBTQ+ teens, was being fast tracked by your loving and supportive father, a man who cried when you told him how afraid you were about coming out to him. He had uttered the same words Peter did: Love is love.


End file.
